FRANK GALLAGHER: Tickets this way for the Chatsworth Express!
Come and watch pikeys making a mess of the lives
they were given by him upstairs and kids they're convinced
aren't actually theirs.
What sounds on Earth could ever replace kids needing
money or wives in your face?
'cos this, people reckon, and me included,
is why pubs and drugs were kindly
invented to calm us all down and stop us going mental.
These are Chatsworth Estate's basic essentials.
We are worth every penny for grinding your axes.
You shit on our heads, but you pay the taxes.
Imagine a Britain without Chatsworth buccaneers
who'd cum on your face for the price of a beer.
Make poverty history.
Cheaper drugs now!
Make poverty history.
Cheaper drugs now!
[laughs] Scatter!
Party!
MONICA (VOICEOVER): I wrote a poem.
There was a young woman from Chatsworth who had dreams,
ambitions, and older stuff.
But she lost her good cheer and ended up here.
But I can't finish it.
Can't think of the last line.
Frank.
She's gone over.
We've got time.
Don't need any foreplay.
I can get meself going.
Quick in and out will do.
Yeah, yeah, go on.
Knock yourself out.
[snores]
Oh, Christ.
CARL (OFFSCREEN) Uhh.
Come on!
At least somebody's getting some.
[stella starts crying]
Come on!
[knock on door]
DEBBIE: Carl!
Fuck off!
I'm touching cloth here!
I'm having a piss!
What for 40 minutes?
Really?
It's been 40 minutes?
DEBBIE: Duh!
Yeah, well, I've got a big bladder.
Ugh, Carl!
MAN: That's your lot.
You'll have to wait.
I can't find the gin.
Down there on the left.
Feel free to roll your tongue back in.
Suppose there's no chance of a quickie?
Go on, for old times' sake?
I'm a married woman.
Not even a hand-job?
MANDY: Not unless you want to take your knob home
to your missus in a jiffy bag.
The sister-in-law?
Shut up.
He's harmless.
Listen I wanted to ask.
You don't mind if I have someone stay over Friday night?
Course not.
Why would I?
No.
Right.
Stay over.
Course.
You live there, and all.
It's the first time, you know.
Fuck off!
You haven't shagged him yet?
What are you, a nun?
Is it compulsory to use your knickers as ankle warmers
on your first date, these days?
All right!
No need to get your chastity belt in a twist.
Not another word from me.
Any road, better get our skates on.
Carl!
MAXINE: All right, sexy?
Joined Randall and Hopkirk, have we?
Fuck off, I'm late.
Thought we were going in town?
Yeah, I've got nothing to wear.
You've got nothing to wear to go clothes shopping.
Got no money, either.
Do you wanna eat this toast or wear it?
Battle of the sexes, gorgeous.
By the you're old enough to realize you're in a war,
you've already lost it.
What is it with girls and touching?
You don't always have to be touching.
And you shouldn't be shoplifting either.
FRANK: All right, son?
LIAM: No.
Good.
MAXINE: All right, Mr. G?
Pleased to see me?
Careful what you wish for, cheeky.
Oh, yeah?
So now you're feeling frisky?
Well, it's-- it's just a laugh.
Five minutes.
Show some respect!
I hate this.
Gives me creeps.
Don't worry.
Scrappy Doo will protect ya.
It's an annual pilgrimage.
Mimi sits here all day, we get excused after an hour.
I'm all dressed up so's I can stand out here,
freezing me knackers off for an hour.
Apparently blood's thicker than water.
It's not thicker than fucking voddie, though, is it?
[laughs]
What for?
All right, speak to you later.
State of him.
Hey.
Saw that new girl of yours.
Only went into the shop for a pint of milk and there she is.
I mean, for a hooker, all that fucking hair.
Biggest turn off going.
It's about as sexy as a pig in a skirt.
MIMI: What the fuck!?
It's all right, mum, we'll fix it.
Look at how upset it's making him!
He's not grieving, he's hungover.
Clear it up.
Now.
Now!
Fuck!
Sorry!
I was bringing you a cuppa.
See if I could work in some small talk.
I think we've gone beyond that.
Fuck! Shit!
Stop!
What?
I didn't know.
I'm sorry! - What?
Ew, he's not my bloke.
He's my brother.
We share the house!
Hurry up before I lose me erection.
Well.
Won't it be weird?
Him being there?
Since when was watching against the law?
It's a fucking joke!
Not family enough to visit grave,
but it's all hands to pump when it
comes to scrubbing the bastard.
SHANE: It's 'cos you're girls.
You do a better job.
Don't, Karen, I'll throw up again.
- We're leaving. - Lightweight.
Fuck off, Micky.
You sure you'll be all right?
This can never happen again.
PADDY: It won't, angel.
I promise.
Here you go.
- It's only 20. - I know.
Weather we're having, expect I'll need done
again before the week's out.
No problem.
I said to your dad, no way that's a turkey, Me but Bernie
the butcher swore by it.
Suppose they do look similar, though.
Plucked.
A turkey and a swan.
So not the best Christmas.
Poor cow.
Why is it always the mothers that bear the burden?
FRANK: Come on, having a bite here.
You can have a bite of me.
I've got sauce on me now.
What?
I want--
I need a bit of intimacy.
I'm not just a fucking baby machine.
Yeah, but, you know, the timing's wrong.
Yeah, timing's always wrong.
Like-- no, I mean, you still, you know, cutting
a bit of baby fat, aren't you?
So I would've thought you--
you wouldn't, you wouldn't flaunt it.
I'm still a woman!
I still need love!
Seven kids I've given ya!
When have I ever cast it up?
Ever?
MONICA (SHOUTING): You bastard!
[glass breaking]
[pots clattering]
Hey!
Nobody's saying you got to be Liz Hurley.
MONICA: Fuck you, you fucker!
Well, you're not eating for two anymore, are you?
MONICA: I'll fucking show you fucking love handles!
Would you rather I lied to you?
Piss off, you twat!
Oh, here we go, another pair.
Female of the species, victims of biology
and the unbearable lightness of shopping.
Oh, and whose fault is it?
Societal pressure created by men!
Oh, come on, then!
What's the view from the leaf-blowing brigade?
You really are a useless prick, aren't you?
I'm not.
Just think what that woman's given up for you?
What?
You?
Giant fucking Yoda in a shell suit?
That's right, revert to your default position: abusive.
Don't examine your own behavior, whatever you do,
'cause you're a great catch, aren't you, Frank?
Husband, helper, lover.
You're gonna lose her.
No, I'm not.
Hey.
Don't fucking laugh at me.
Because it's the lowest form of wit.
You mind?
The ladies' loos are flooded.
No.
Sorry.
I don't really need to go.
It's just--
What?
When was the last time you did a bit of gardening?
I know it's none of my business, but it's
your big day on Friday, and I know it's been a long time,
and Joe said--
Joe said what?
About as sexy is a pig in a skirt.
That he doesn't like hairy women.
They're totally disgusting and it makes him want to puke.
MANDY: A fucking barbie doll?
Smooth bump at the front?
It's natural!
What kind of person thinks body hair is disgusting?
A massive turn off?
The hoops we fucking jump through.
I just thought you'd want to know!
All right, mate?
Yeah, grind.
What?
Well, this is really fucking weird because she's my sister,
but, well I know it's your big night Friday.
She doesn't like hairy men.
What?
She doesn't like men with hair.
What you mean--
Jesus no!
It'd look like a one turkey plucked and ready for the oven.
Your chest.
Well, I've seen you after games.
You're not exactly lacking are ya?
She really hates it?
Heh.
Disgusts her.
Doesn't think she could be with a hairy guy.
Sorry, man.
How was that?
Stanley Waterman, if muff diving
were an Olympic sport you'd be a national fucking hero.
What, do you hang weights off your tongue?
Your turn.
I'm knackered, Stan.
There's no way I could work up the energy.
If you don't mind me saying, but you always seem
knackered when it's my turn, these days.
Am I?
It's you're own fault. You're too blooming good.
Yvonne.
Yvonne?
It's the wart, Stan.
The wart.
I thought you hadn't noticed.
Noticed?
It's almost had me eye out five times.
It's like your bellend's grown another head.
It's only a wart, love.
They can easily be removed.
Like a verruca.
Tsst.
It's rubbish innit?
No.
It's just this bit about "running
his tongue around her burning Volvo"
it's a typing error, right?
I use check.
I'm no good with the Latin words.
And same when she gives him a "blow-dry."
No, I mean that.
- She's a hairdresser. - Oh
Oh, you's hate it.
No, we don't.
It's just--
ZETA: It's a bit gay, Micky.
How is this gay?
"He bent her over the cement mixer,
spread her ass cheeks wide, and slid the length
of his girder inside.
The only sound interrupting her moans
was the rattle of her hard hat inside the empty mixer
as it went round and round and around.
It's a building site.
So?
You get women builders.
Straight or not, I'm as wet as a fisherman's sou'wester just
listening to it.
Upstairs, the pair of you.
Sorry about that.
It's all right.
Happens.
It's just bad timing.
You two coming first again.
She's not stupid, you know.
She must be if she thinks you're still in the closet.
Shut up.
[water running]
That's how you're into swinging, innit?
A poof dropped in a straight marriage?
Hey!
I'm not a poof!
Yeah?
So how come you've got a stiffy as soon as she left the room?
I love her.
When was the last time you had straight sex with her?
Micky, I think I love you, too.
Well, tomorrow, we'll have this out.
The three of us.
What are you doing?
I am helping.
Oh, fuck's sake!
Looking foxy, Mrs. G.
Thank you, Maxine.
[stella starts crying]
What's with your mum?
General or specific?
General, she wasn't born into the royal family.
Specific, she's 43 going on 14.
I'm pissing!
What, all day, every day?
Debs, wait.
I'll just unload, shall I?
I can't piss.
Well you're getting plenty of practice.
No, I mean, I can't piss.
A little bit comes out, but it hurts like fuck.
And it itches all the time.
Use a condom, don't you?
'Course I do.
Usually. - You've got an STD.
Have I?
Fuck!
Fine, you haven't.
What should I do?
Clinic.
No way!
[water running]
[liam playing]
[banging]
LIAM: I'm OK.
Everything's fine.
[stella starts crying]
Oh, fuck!
Shut up, Stella!
LILLIAN: All right, love? - Yeah.
Thanks, Lillian.
If you don't mind me saying, you're looking a bit mental.
Am I?
You sure you haven't got some of that post-natal depression?
She could be right, you know, Monica.
You don't seem quite yourself.
And what is meself, then Yvonne?
Dressing like a sofa and munching down HRT,
because I'm past me sell-by date?
Don't be soft!
Bosom's like these, you've got 20 years of good handling
in you, yet.
I'm not mental just because I want
to be treated like a woman.
You can probably take your hands off now, Lillian.
LILLIAN: They were persecuted in ancient times, hypnotists.
Folk used to think it were black magic.
MONICA: It's probably just a tacky sex show.
Pub hypnotists, they're all the same.
NORMA: So you're not going?
Oh yeah!
I'm going to get there early.
Get seat down front.
It's a science of the future, mind control.
Some people even see it as an art.
Who's to say?
The paying fucking public.
Seven quid a ticket.
He better be an artist.
They used to think Houdini hypnotized his self
so he could hold his breath.
Until he drowned, of course.
Then the theory lost some of its credibility.
Our mum was hypnotized once.
Wonder if that's why she thinks she's a Scouser.
She is a fucking Scouser!
'Course all art is subjective.
You know that tennis poster of the year?
Of the lass lifting her skirt to scratch
a single perfect round buttock.
We have to go.
I've still got half me pint.
Now!
Classic image that is.
KAREN: I used me dad's razor the first time I did it.
Using aftershave and all.
That was a once only experiment.
You sure you've done this before?
Yeah!
One summer, I did me mate's like the faces
of the Take That Boys.
Except Gary Barlow, of course.
She must have been a hairy girl.
Not really.
Mark Owen's only little.
Maybe I should go to a salon.
And drop 40 quid to let some spotty teenager stare up
your muff?
Come on, get 'em off!
Are you sure this is the best way to do it?
How should I know?
Not my missus who's got a fetish for baldy.
It's not natural, though, is it?
Yeah, blame Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio.
We live in the era of the girly man.
Yeah, well, I'd fucking hate to look like that.
Can you do it?
Fuck right off!
I can't get the angles right, looking in the mirror.
Nobody gets to hear about this.
DEBBIE: That's half my wardrobe, Liam!
These aren't stolen!
[stella crying]
I don't want them in the house, it's bad karma.
Who the fuck?
What you doing?
Assisting.
Being less than useless.
More importantly, what the fuck is
this garment doing in my house didn't we bring 'em up right?
I don't care.
MANDY: Ah!
Holy god, it hurts!
Everything all right?
Yeah.
You?
Fine.
What are you up to?
Nothing.
You?
Not much.
You said you'd done this before.
I have.
Just been a while, that's all.
Thought you were an expert.
Did you mate's with the Take That boys.
I never said it was a good likeness.
Feels like you used sticky sandpaper.
I think I'm bleeding.
Don't be so soft.
Women have suffered abuse since the dawn of time
and you've only just started.
Get back.
Christ almighty!
Jamie?
Something wrong?
No.
Sound as a pound.
OK.
Nipple, I think you cut it off.
You shouldn't twitch so much.
Well, no wonder with the barber of fucking
Seville shaving me chest.
Oh, don't be such a baby.
It's only a nipple.
You've got another one.
KELLY: Your brother fancies me.
He wants to fucking do me, and not straight on and off,
either.
He wants to spank me.
You can't hurt him, Shane, he's your brother.
I'm not gonna hurt him.
I feel sorry for him.
I'm not sure how to take that.
No, I mean.
I don't blame him.
How could he not fancy you?
Karen's a nice girl, and all, but she'll never be you.
You're taking the piss.
No.
You could be a model.
In fact, you make half the models in magazines
look like dogs.
I do own a mirror, Shane.
And, while it tells me that, yes, I am a fucking knockout,
I don't think Kate Moss should be
quivering in the Jimmy Choos.
You're gonna have to put him off.
How?
Completely bald!
You said Brazilian!
There must be bad Brazilians.
Who's the one that bends the free kicks?
Bald is all the rage.
Brazilian's so nice.
I'm not interested in fanny fashion!
And it's not supposed to hurt this much, either.
I suppose I should have used alcohol-free wipes.
Tea tree's the best, I think.
On the plus side, you could stuff a cushion with these.
She giving you the old heave-ho, then?
Permanent?
Or is it just a lover's 'tiff?
What?
Your girlfriend.
Well you've been spending so much time there, of late.
I expected this to be a solo mission.
Yeah.
Take her to see Yond, hypnotist,
at the Jockey tomorrow night.
Laughter's a rare remedy.
Yeah, maybe.
Don't be a doormat.
I'll talk her round.
Never underestimate the wisdom of the old fella, son,
when it comes to the ladies.
I cast my net far and wide before I met your mother.
Excellent.
Shh.
What's she doing?
I couldn't say, Michael.
I'll grab her.
Sh, sh, wait.
I'm fucking gorgeous.
I'm in my prime, you bastard.
LIAM: [clears throat] Corrie's on.
Thought you might want to know.
Be down in a minute.
- Hiya. - Hi.
It really burns when I piss.
And most of the time I can't piss,
so I've got this really throbbing pain.
And I'm itching so much that I'm scratching myself raw.
I do this job two days a week until they can get me
in full-time at McDonald's, so you
probably want to wait for one of the doctors to examine you.
Just your name, for now.
Carl Gallagher.
CARL: You all right, Stan?
All right, Carl.
What you in for?
You've got genital herpes or something.
Hey, it gives you an itchy ass, huh?
Read about it.
No.
Nothing like that.
It's just a small personal.
I have an infection.
I've just got a small nubbin on the end of me--
A bit of diplomacy, eh?
About us seeing each other here?
I've only got chlamydia.
It's like the Stockport County of VDs.
Chlamydia's very infectious, Carl.
It can lead to infertility.
Premature birth, whole load of most nasty things.
You've got to tell them, Carl.
Any girls you've been with.
It's important.
You all right, Tina?
[groans]
Not today, Micky.
We're supposed to have a chat.
Me and Ady had the chat, we didn't need you present.
It's OK I'll handle it.
Honest.
Faggot.
Which one us are you talking to?
She gave me an ultimatum.
Made me choose.
What, and you chose her?
You're even gayer than I am!
We can still see each other.
Just not when she knows.
No, mate.
I don't think so.
Why?
Because I prefer a bit more spine.
You're too pussy whipped.
Micky--
No, mate.
I deserve better.
I deserve fucking better.
DEBBIE: What are you doing?
Going see the hypnotist at the Jockey.
Not in that top, you're not.
That's mine.
It's stolen.
It's mine.
It's only a top, Debs.
What about Stella?
Well, Liam can look after--
Don't even think about it.
You can't leave a baby with a nine-year-old boy.
Fine!
I'll stay in again, like the prisoner of fucking Zenda!
What you doing?
Don't.
[stella cries]
Debbie!
[guitar playing]
Thanks a fucking bunch, Stan!
[knock on door]
Good evening, madam.
Do you believe in the living Christ?
After this week, absolutely not.
Wait, my soul might be lost.
My son's is definitely up for grabs.
Ten.
Do I look like immigrant labor?
20, then, but that's for the whole night.
Not changing any more nappies.
Just keep them talking, all right?
I'll give you some privacy.
I've just got a quick point to make to me husband.
Have fun!
HYPNOTIST: Now, Carl is your husband,
Lillian is your lesbian lover, and Norma is Brad Pitt.
[crowd cheering]
In the nude.
[crowd cheering]
And wake!
Lillian!
What are you doing here?
Carl will find out.
Oh, my god.
Brad Pitt?
You're everything I imagined and more!
NORMA: It is not amusing to put me in this position.
A penis is an impressive appendage!
[crowd laughing and cheering]
Marital strife and an imaginary knob.
Passes for entertainment, does it?
JAMIE: All right, Shane? SHANE: Yes, mate.
JAMIE: All right, Kelly?
Yeah, magic.
[snorts] Can I have lager and a vodka tonic, please?
You have-- you've got something on your--
Oh, yeah, me falser.
Seems to rub when it's me time of the month.
And, Jesus, am I on!
It's like someone's turned a tap--
Hey all right, Kelly, yeah?
Pint and a vodka tonic was it?
What you doing?
Don't worry, I've got a sitter so you can
remove the gun from me head.
Who?
You fucking peck away at me like a hen.
You know that, Debbie?
Seven of you I brought up, and not of you
has ever had the good grace to pay me
the tiniest little compliment.
When your responsibilities in life
extend beyond "which sleeveless top shall I rob?" then
you can question my parenting skills.
All right?
Two bottles of lager, Karen.
[groans in pain] Sorry.
Just a little bit sensitive.
Must be all the excitement.
Just gonna nip the loo.
You might, at least, wait till the lad comes back.
Only real fundamentalists still adhere to the notion
that God physically created the world in seven days.
It's metaphorical.
Do you know what a metaphor is?
Don't you it's hypocritical of the church
to insist on creationism for centuries,
only to jump on the intelligent design bandwagon now?
[clucks like a chicken]
And now you're a monkey!
SHANE: You're hypnotizing her all the time!
Hypnotize some locals!
[crowd groans]
Some people are more susceptible to hypnotism
than other people, so--
You're fucking at it, you are.
What about this gallant young lad?
MAXINE: Yeah, that's more like it!
[crowd cheers]
And this lovely lady.
Me? HYPNOTIST: Yes.
Come on, folks.
Come on, give them a hand.
[applause]
You, little lady, are exquisite.
Anybody can say the right words.
Not rocket science, is it?
Feel heavy.
Ssh!
Right, mate, listen, I'll give you
50 quid if you do what I say and make out you're hypnotized.
What?
It's a fucking scam, all right?
I could no more hypnotize you than pull a bunch of flowers
out me ass.
50 quid, are you in our out?
Yes I am.
And sleep.
How long you going to keep this up?
I'm busy.
Sorry if the text was over the top.
It was just a joke, try and snap you out of it.
Look, we can go for dinner, or something.
Your choice.
Don't know what you're talking about.
What text?
The filthy one.
You've been blanking me so much I
thought it would break the ice.
I haven't been blanking ya.
I've been rushed off me feet.
I didn't get any text.
Recognize it?
No.
So you're not angry with me?
Jesus, Jamie you went on the tiles with a mate.
You're not Osama bin Laden.
So who have I sent this to?
Oh, shit.
But I want your baby.
I want to feel your seed grow inside me.
Ooh, easy tiger!
HECKLER: Fucking god-awful!
If evolution is right, and I'm not conceding that,
then surely there's a guiding hand
behind it, an intelligence.
It can't be just chance.
I don't accept that.
When the black symbiote attaches itself to Spider-man's suit,
it's because a meteor's crashing to Earth.
A meteor hitting hitting the earth
is pure maths, not religion.
Spider-man isn't real!
There's as much proof of him as there is for God.
And finally, ladies and gentlemen, this young man
will awake and believe he has never been hypnotized at all.
You have seen the evidence yourselves.
But he will believe that I offered him 50 pounds
to pretend he was hypnotized
[crowd heckling]
and behave in the manner you have all witnessed.
And wake.
Tell the good people, truthfully, have you
been hypnotized this evening?
What, really?
Yes, the truth.
Nothing but the truth.
Well, no, you offered me 50 quid to pretend.
[crowd cheering and clapping]
He's a fucking phony!
Is that a wedding ring on your finger?
He's not the possessive type, if that's
what you're wondering.
YVONNE: It's a good job.
Were it painful?
No, they froze it, first.
I'm only just getting the feeling back.
So do you see any problems for future--
you know.
What's sauce for the goose, Stanley.
Funny, though.
Seems a little lonely.
Like he's lost his friend.
Doesn't have to be.
They gave me it in a jar, for safekeeping.
As a keepsake.
[yvonne gags]
Yvonne?
I thought I'd be funny.
Can I have a word?
Are you sure, Karen's just over there.
Yeah, I know.
You're a nice lad, Jamie.
But, let's be honest, you did hit
a few branches of the ugly tree on the way down.
I appreciate your candor, but, the text
message wasn't meant for you.
Karen, Kelly, next to each other in the address book.
I thought Karen was angry with me.
I was trying to give her a bit of a giggle that's all.
Right.
And I'm guess you look like this because you're
trying to put me off.
Very admirable, being so loyal to our kid.
Right.
So I can take this boot polish off me tooth?
Dunno.
Kind of suits ya.
[monica moaning]
[grunting]
Fucking hell!
From the first minute I laid eyes on you.
You're so-- so--
Yeah?
So motherly.
What?
So maternal.
The way your breasts have fallen.
The broadness of your hips, stretchmarks and your belly.
It's such a turn-on to think that you've grown a baby.
Are you feeding?
Of course I think I could go again if you could lactate.
[knock on door] HYPNOTIST'S WIFE: Damien?
(WHISPERED)- Oh, fuck! HYPNOTIST'S WIFE: Damien?
Oh, fuck! Shh!
[knock on door]
What are you doing? - In here.
You fucking bastard!
You promised no more milfs.
To think I spend my nights clucking
like a fucking chicken for you.
I'm sorry.
It
What?
She could never be with an 'airy guy.
That's what she said!
No I didn't, that's what she said.
I was just repeating what he told Kelly.
Told Kelly what?
That hairy women were a turn off.
Pig in a skirt, he said.
Talking about Janine.
New girl at Lillian's.
Head of hair on it like she's caught
her piercing in a socket.
[laughs] Looks like the love-child of Amy
Winehouse and Russell Brand.
All that fucking hair!
It's the biggest turn off going.
About as sexy as a pig in a skirt.
Oh
Maybe you should concentrate on your relationship.
Not exactly benchmark communication, is it?
Text messages.
I don't care if he makes a point,
you're not supposed to ask questions.
Night.
Thanks a lot.
It wouldn't be appropriate.
They might not know it, but I'm wrong and they're right.
Good lad.
You spilled something on your dress.
Good night?
Not particularly.
I do try, Monica.
Best as I'm able.
I know.
I mean, sometimes, you know, I lash out.
Get me defense in before the attack comes.
I might misjudge it, on occasion.
I'm sorry.
I know.
Whatever it is, don't let it swamp you, Mon.
I won't.
Frank, can you just hold me?
Please?
Stop poking me in the back!
I'm not poking you.
I've got the horn, is all.
I am going to ride you till you cry, Frank Gallagher.
Fair enough.
[he grunts]
MANDY: No, wait, get a condom.
No I'm not coming.
Me nipple stings.
Oh! Oh!
[mandy moaning]
Do you think they're humping or dressing
each other's wounds?
Dunno.
I know!
No I need to get off.
Feels like you're scrubbing me muff with steel wool.
[they laugh]
Learned my lesson, though.
What?
Don't interfere in other people's love lives?
Fuck, no.
That's one of the few true pleasures left to a woman.
So, what's the lesson?
Buy ear-plugs when Mandy's got a bloke over.
[mandy laughing]
Do you want to shag?
Drown out the noise.
Yeah!
(SHOUTING)- Oh, no!
No, you're too heavy.
No!
Get off me!
So what is it you've got to tell me in such a rush?
What the fuck are you doing?
Sorry.
I thought-- I mean--
Stop it.
You should enjoy the view, while you can.
What do you mean?
I'm expecting.
Don't worry, it's not yours.
You're good, but you're not that good.
I'm 12 weeks gone. More's the pity.
I liked you.
So what have you got to tell me?
It's not important.
He's a lucky bloke, you know, this baby's dad.
Yeah.
He is.
[footsteps approaching]
How are you?
MARGARET (VOICEOVER: There was a young woman
from Chatsworth who had dreams, ambitions, and other stuff.
But she lost her good cheer and ended up here.
So she could probably just do what she wants, now,
and look after herself because every other bastard does.
I know it don't rhyme, but, poems don't have to, do they?
Not these days.
[music playing]
Enough?
More.
I'm doubling up for now on.